


Handsy Strangers and Clever Bards

by dhwty_writes



Series: Geraskier One-Shots [5]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Fake/Pretend Relationship, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Is In Love, M/M, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-09-21
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:20:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26584288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dhwty_writes/pseuds/dhwty_writes
Summary: "What do you want, Jaskier?" he muttered and took another swig of his ale.He chuckled and sat down on Geralt’s table, planting his feet on either side of his chair. "Nothing, my love, but the sweet reward that is your lovely company," he singsonged, looping his arms around his neck and pulling him close.Geralt frowned. That was new. Usually Jaskier would sit down on the chair beside him, one arm slung over his shoulder, but never two. Never in front of him, never with his legs spread, never arching his back like that, and never winking. He hoped that he didn’t notice what those simple things did to him and followed the gentle pull regardless. How could he not? The bard had him completely enthralled for quite some time, and while he did his best to hide his willingness to lay the world at his feet, Geralt suspected that he did a very poor job of it. That was how he ended up in these situations, after all. "Let me rephrase my question,” he said slowly, “what did you do now?"Jaskier is hit on by a stranger and asks Geralt to be his pretend boyfriend.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Geraskier One-Shots [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1931821
Comments: 32
Kudos: 495





	Handsy Strangers and Clever Bards

**Author's Note:**

> This is a prompt fill for Spielzeugkaiser, who asked for "Help me I’m being hit on at a bar please be my fake boyfriend for a second ". Have fun!

"Geralt, darling, how are you on this wonderful evening," the bard purred, plastering himself close to Geralt's side.

He snorted quietly and rolled his eyes, but still slung an arm around his waist without even thinking. The bard could be drunk after all, and he didn't want him to stumble and make a fool of himself. _Again_. "What do you want, Jaskier?" he muttered and took another swig of his ale.

He chuckled and sat down on Geralt’s table, planting his feet on either side of his chair. "Nothing, my love, but the sweet reward that is your lovely company," he singsonged, looping his arms around his neck and pulling him close.

Geralt frowned. That was new. Usually Jaskier would sit down on the chair beside him, one arm slung over his shoulder, but never two. Never in front of him, never with his legs spread, never arching his back like that, and never winking. He hoped that he didn’t notice what those simple things did to him and followed the gentle pull regardless. How could he not? The bard had him completely enthralled for quite some time, and while he did his best to hide his willingness to lay the world at his feet, Geralt suspected that he did a very poor job of it. That was how he ended up in these situations, after all. "Let me rephrase my question,” he said slowly, “what did you do now?"

Jaskier pulled back and smiled sweetly. "But only if you promise not to get angry," he cooed and — of all things — tapped him on the nose.

Geralt nodded grumpily. That way he didn’t have to admit that he liked that. 

The bard leaned closer, bringing his lips to his ear. "See that dashing gentleman in the dark blue doublet over there?"

He nodded again. It was an attractive man alright, as far as Geralt could tell. Tall, dark hair, dark eyes, lean muscles. Rich, too, with those clothes. He definitely understood what Jaskier saw in him. 

"Well, I did what I always do and judged a book by its cover and, uh- might have misjudged his character a bit."

"You're in trouble?" he growled. If the man had touched him, or insulted him, or-

"Well, yes. You could say that. Though this time it is not _really_ my fault. He started the flirting, and then he got a bit handsy-" Geralt growled again and Jaskier promptly began stroking his back. "No, don't tear his head off yet, I got it under control, kind of- Well, anyways, I told him that I was spoken for and he didn't believe me and asked where my lover was, and I, uh-"

"Yes?" he asked, irritated. Why couldn’t he just get to the fucking _point_? Jaskier’s stories always took way too many detours for his liking.

"I might have said that you are my loving and doting partner to get him to leave me alone? And then he told me to prove it, so, uh, here I am."

Geralt pulled back and searched his face to decipher the joke. There was none. ‘Fuck.’ He was telling the truth. "Here you are," he confirmed.

Jaskier smiled brightly. "Angry?"

"Hmm." How could he be with a smile like that? How could he be when this was everything he longed for? 

He patted his shoulder like he always did. "Right, we'll sort that out later.” He tried to look over his shoulder inconspicuously without too much success. “Does he look convinced yet?"

He eyed the man warily, who was glaring at Jaskier as if he were some... some... piece of choice meat or something, completely ignoring the witcher that glowered at him. He settled his hands on Jaskier’s hips protectively. The bard giggled again, writhing in his grasp. All part of the show. "Not really."

The bard let out a very impressive string of creative curses that earned them suspicious looks from the other patrons.

Before he could think the better of it, he pulled his friend onto his lap. Jaskier yelped in surprise, before steadying himself and giggling silly. It was a silly act, for a silly idea, and- "Oh, _Geralt_ ," he cooed and that was more attractive than it had any right to be.

"Kiss me," he blurted, not thinking at all.

" _What?!_ " Jaskier nearly shouted and almost fell off his lap. Geralt gripped him tighter and hauled him closer.

Something painful writhed in his stomach as he took in the horror on his bard's face. Was the idea of kissing him so revolting that-? He didn't really want to think about that. "I just thought," he mumbled, dropping his head to Jaskier's shoulder, in part to keep the act up, in part to hide his embarrassment, "if you wanted to convince him nothing would be better than a kiss. A silly idea, you know."

"Li-like on the cheek?" Jaskier stammered and why was _he_ smelling of embarrassment now?

He quickly shook his head. That wasn't what he had meant.

"Okay," Jaskier said almost too quickly. Quickly enough for Geralt to raise his head in interest at least. He wanted to reply something, ask something, but he couldn't remember what it was, because suddenly Jaskier's hands cupped his cheeks and he was being kissed.

It was a simple kiss, a brief brush of their lips, scarcely noticeable. Immediately, Geralt hungered for more.

"Still looking?" Jaskier asked against his lips.

"Yeah," he answered, without bothering to check whether or not that was true. "Needs more convincing."

Jaskier's breath hitched and Geralt could hear his heart speeding up. "Like how?"

He'd never been good with words, not even before the trials. Sometimes he could scarcely get out one simple sentence without stuttering, sometimes he just said the wrong thing, sometimes he was too embarrassed. 

Words were Jaskier’s thing. He was the one who could make stories come to life, the monsters and the heroes, the love, the hate, the _everything_. He surely could tell Geralt exactly how he should kiss him until he’d be blushing like a maiden in her wedding night. Geralt could do no such thing. 

So, he just showed him.

He tightened his arm around his waist and pulled him closer until Jaskier was properly sitting in his lap, straddling his thighs, their groins almost touching. He raised his other hand to the back of his neck, tracing his cheekbone with his thumb. For a moment he studied his bard's face, waiting for some kind of rejection, some kind of sign for him to stop, some- Instead his eyelids fluttered close, his mouth parted in an inaudible moan and that was the only agreement Geralt needed to know that his touch was not unwelcome.

The only invitation he needed to lean up, and Jaskier leaned down, and their mouths met in a bruising kiss, the product of years of pent up longing, of yearning, of affections unrequited. Jaskier wriggled even closer and moaned sinfully into Geralt's mouth when he ground his hips softly.

When they broke apart, Jaskier was flushed and breathing hard, and Geralt felt quite a bit proud. The bard leaned his forehead against his and Geralt reached up to push a stray strand out of his face. "That wasn't pretend," he noted.

"No," Jaskier confirmed with a trembling voice. "It wasn't."

"Hmm."

A wicked smile spread on Jaskier's face. "It wasn't pretend for you either."

"Hmm," he said again.

Jaskier wrapped his long fingers around Geralt's and pressed a sweet kiss to his knuckles. "Let's take this upstairs, shall we?"

There was nothing he could do to protest. And for the first time in his life Geralt found himself glad for Jaskier's tendency to flirt himself into trouble.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. If you liked it, leave a comment or come send me more prompts on my [tumblr](https://dhwty-writes.tumblr.com/).


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